Gym teacher
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Gym Teacher by Cindy V
It is not politically correct to say this, but most teachers of
academic subjects like myself feel superior to teachers of the non-
academic subjects. And the least academic subject of them all has to
be gym. Excuse me - physical education. I mean, come on - anyone can
stand in front of a class and count a cadence for jumping jacks. Even
hygiene, the one real class that gym teachers teach, is pretty easy.
Any real teacher could cram for a week and then teach hygiene. But how
about the opposite? Do you think a gym teacher could cram for a week
and teach algebra? In fact a long time ago Bill Cosby had a television
show where he was a gym teacher and had to do just that; the result was
predictable.
And among gym teachers, female gym teachers are a strange breed. Many
of them are fifty year olds who are decades away from ever having done
anything athletic. The younger ones work out and are definitely trim,
but.... Why is it they universally have short hair like guys, wear no
makeup, never wear a skirt or a dress or heels? Is it because the
young gym teachers are all lesbians?
So while we teachers of English, history, languages, math and science
have discussed this among ourselves, of course we would never say these
things in front of the gym teachers, and especially the female ones.
But I suspect they can sense we have an attitude towards them.
Our school does not offer gym in the summer. Mostly because it's too
hot. (The other reason is because - how can anyone flunk gym?) So the
exercise room is freely available to the teachers in the summer. I try
to put in a little time there in the summer. And the gym teachers,
especially the female ones, spend a lot of time there in the summer.
One day this summer I noticed someone had put up a wrestling mat
including ropes. Two of the young female gym teachers, Claire and
Robin, were wrestling each other. They were each wearing abbreviated
tops, shorts and sneakers. The tops were too short for normal gym
classes, but since no students would be in the gym they figured it
didn't matter. They were doing collegiate or Olympic wrestling, which
involves strength and speed rather than the punching and kicking of
television wrestling, and they were really working up a sweat. Their
shorts were tight, and you could see their lovely asses.
They paused when they noticed me watching them. "Hey Jack," Robin
called to me. "Didn't you tell us you used to wrestle in college?"
This was true in a very limited sense. My very first semester I
couldn't fill up my schedule with a fifth course because everything
seemed to be closed out, so in desperation to take something I
registered for a gym class in wrestling. I was awful. But I had not
told them quite all these details.
"Well, yes. But that was a long time ago," I replied.
"Jack, you're never going to lose any weight the little that you use
that treadmill," Claire said to me. OK, so I am a little on the heavy
side at the moment. OK, maybe more than a little. Claire likes to
point this out to me when she can.
"I think it would help me if I were to wrestle someone much heavier,"
Claire announced. "And you'd be amazed how many calories you would
burn up. What do you say, Jack? Are you game?"
I felt myself being drawn into an impossible situation here. "I'm
about twice your weight, Claire. I could hurt you. On the other hand
I'm about twice your age. You could easily have me huffing and
puffing, and I would never be able to keep up with you."
Claire would not be put off so easily. "Oh, don't be silly Jack. We
don't have to wrestle that long - just a little workout. And I know
you wouldn't deliberately hurt me."
"Go ahead Jack," Robin urged me. "Claire will give you a nice workout,
and you'll really burn off some calories."
Against my better judgment, I climbed into the ring with Claire. Robin
stepped out and rang the bell.
We began facing each other in a standard wrestler's clench. I figured
if I could flip her a few times and basically show her she couldn't
budge someone so much heavier, that she would have enough.
She tried to put a leg out to trip me, but she didn't have the right
leverage. She tried to throw a punch to my head, but I blocked it with
my arm. I easily pushed her backwards.
Claire used the opportunity of my push to run back to the ropes and
bounce off of them towards me with increased speed. She came at me
fast, but I sidestepped her and she continued onto the opposite ropes.
She came at me again and plowed right into me, but she didn't have
enough momentum and I wouldn't budge. She ran to the ropes, bounced
off of them and ran towards me. I grabbed her wrist, went down on one
knee, and let her use her own momentum to flip her over my shoulder.
Not perfectly executed, but not too bad either. I was surprised at how
well this was turning out.
She got up quickly. Did she give Robin a wink? She ran to the ropes
again, bounced off and came at me. My little flip worked so well the
last time, so I thought I'd try it again. I grabbed her wrist and went
down on one knee. But this time she was too quick for me, and she gave
me a sharp kick to the ass, toppling me over. I released her wrist as
I fell. Big mistake.
Claire recovered quickly as I lay on the mat, and grabbed each of my
feet and stood up. There she stood menancingly between my legs. "What
do you think Robin? Should I squash his little cock?" Paralyzed with
fear, I waited for Robin's reply.
But Claire didn't wait for Robin's answer. Instead she stepped down
with all her weight on my left thigh, near my groin. The pain was
incredible. Then again. And again. She continued assualting my left
thigh until there were tears coming from my eyes. Then she repeated
the attack on my right thigh. I was thankful that she left my genitals
intact, but the pain was killing me and she had really stretched me
out.
Claire let go of me as I lay in pain. As I tried to recover my legs
and thighs, she jumped down on me, landing her elbow in my stomach.
This knocked the wind out of me, and since she liked the effect it had
on me, she did it again with her other elbow. Then she sat on my
stomach, grabbed my arms, and put her feet in my armpits. She was
stretching my arms. I thought of simply trying to roll her off my
stomach, but my stomach and thighs hurt, and I couldn't move her. She
continued this until it was obvious that I had no energy to resist her.
Then as I lay motionless and helpless, she did an odd thing. She
removed her shorts, leaving a tiny black panty. She jumped down on me
again, landing with her ass on my chest, and then crawled around and
put my head between her powerful legs. She squeezed my head tight with
her leg scissors, leaving me to inhale her sweaty panties. However, it
was becoming difficult to breathe.
"I think he's had enough, Claire," Robin announced. "What do you want
to do with the wimp now?"
Claire released the hold on my head, but left my face at her crotch.
"You don't think much of gym teachers, do you Jack? And you don't
think we like men? I've heard the things you and your friends say
about us. You are so full of yourself."
"You think you're Mr. Macho, don't you? Hot shot stud. Let's see
that puny dick of yours." And with that she sat on my face, facing my
feet. She reached back and pulled my shorts off, and then my
undershorts. And there was nothing I could do about it. She laughed
as she saw my cock, and then she turned around facing me, still sitting
on my chest.
"And you don't think we're feminine enough, do you? What does it mean
to you to be feminine? To wear lipstick? Maybe you're the one who
needs to be more feminine. Robin, toss me my handbag."
Claire caught the handbag from Robin, and shifted positions on my
chest. Then she removed her panties, giving me a clear look at her
sweat-drenched pussy.
"Robin, dear. I think he's the one who ought to be wearing panties.
Would you do me a favor and put my panties on him?"
And Robin took Claire's panties and inched them up my body, barely
covering my hips. "Oh, he looks so sweet," she gushed.
"He'll look even sweeter when I'm through with him," Claire replied.
Claire then roughly removed my shirt, and sat back down on my chest.
Claire grabbed my head by the hair, still sitting on my chest. Then
she slapped me hard in the cheek. She alternated cheeks, merrily
slapping away, until she showed Robin how nice and glowing they had
become.
"And that's how you know just where to apply his blush," Claire
explained to Robin. She reached into her bag, pulled out her blusher
compact, and started stroking my cheeks with the blusher brush. "Not
that he really needs any," she said sweetly. "I bet you didn't think I
have any makeup," she said to me.
"I think he'd look really sweet with nice long eyelashes," Claire said
to Robin. And Claire reached into her bag again, pulled out a mascara
wand, and started applying it to my lashes. "Oh, he's looking so
pretty," Claire gushed.
"He's almost pretty enough to kiss," Claire taunted me. But a woman
ought to wear lipstick when she kisses, don't you think?" Claire took
out a lipstick. She unscrewed it, and made me admire the rich reddish-
brown color. She applied it slowly to her own lips, looking through
her compact mirror until she was satisfied. Then she kissed me. Hard.
She snaked her tongue in my mouth, clearly controlling the pace of the
kiss. When she was done, she looked at my mouth and noticed that some
of her lipstick had transferred to my lips. "Oh well. Might as well
finish the job."
And with that, Claire carefully held my chin with one hand and firmly
applied the lipstick to me with the other. "Oooh, I think his lips
look so luscious!" she exclaimed.
But she wasn't done. As she looked deeply into my eyes, she gently
tweaked my nipples until they were erect. Then she took the lipstick
and colored my nipples with it. "I think this gives him such a nice
tarty look," Claire said to Robin.
"Well, who's feminine now, sweety?" Claire asked me. "Answer me!"
This was not a rhetorical question. "I, I, I guess I am," I replied
weakly. I felt so ridiculous, and so humiliated at what Claire had
done to me.
"Robin, take a Polaroid of our little femmy, in his panties, his pretty
eyelashes, his rosy pink cheeks, and his lipsticked mouth and nipples,"
Claire dirceted. "Lips and nips!" She seemed pleased with herself for
the rhyme as she got off me. The camera flashed away.
"In fact, he is so femmy, I think he should wear panties to school
everyday," Claire decided. "Sweety, buy yourself five pair of panties
in assorted colors, wear one each day, and report to Robin and me at
this time tomorrow so we know you're really wearing them," she ordered.
"If you don't... well, there's no telling where this picture might
turn up." I nodded, shamedfaced.
"And now, I'm as horny as anything," Claire reported. Let's see if
that pretty lipsticked mouth and that tongue are good for anything," as
she lowered her pussy to my mouth.
Fin
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